


In His Gentle Jaws

by TheChichiSlaughterHouse



Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Sex, Lemon, M/M, No Dialogue, POV Second Person, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-06
Updated: 2010-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-13 09:19:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11181720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChichiSlaughterHouse/pseuds/TheChichiSlaughterHouse
Summary: In this fic, you are Zoro. No, really. A weird little writing experiment from second person POV. ZoroxSanji.





	In His Gentle Jaws

**Author's Note:**

> In His Gentle Jaws
> 
> By The Chichi Slaughter House
> 
> Warnings: ZoroxSanji, second person pov (if you don't know what this is, read it to find out), smut, yaoi.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not Oda, and you are not Zoro. Sad times for us both.
> 
> Writing experiment from back in October for shits and giggles. Title by radiopowered, thank you~

Pale white skin, soft blond hair that feels like silk to the touch. Those strangely pink nipples, toned stomach, strong thighs. The curve of his eyebrow, hairs on his chin; you know them as if by heart now. Sure that you could pick him from a group just by glancing at his beard. The eyebrow would be a dead giveaway though, since no one else is that damn stupid to spend their time curling their own like that. The heat of his body under yours makes heat rise in your gut and consumes you; making you want to be even closer to him though you’re not sure how. He tells you to get off of him, yet his legs are wrapped so tightly round your hips that they’re holding you in place if not just pulling you closer. He glares at you as he speaks, but it’s not a bad glare, more like a demanding stare. But he’s not demanding you to go, no matter what words are leaving his mouth. His blue eye is filled with so much desire that it makes you wonder how it can emote his feelings that clearly. It’s like staring into the depths of the ocean; each line in his iris looking like a wave crashing on a shore. It’s beautiful, intoxicating and when you look that closely, it’s almost as if you’re drowning in his lust.

When you don’t respond in any way to his words, he starts pushing at your chest with his hands, and you know exactly what he wants. Hands pinned over his head, just the way he likes it. He likes to think he doesn’t go down without a fight, and you don’t mind that one bit; it’s a welcome struggle though it’s half-hearted. It’s still enough to make adrenaline pump through your veins, and that’s all you need; pinning his hands almost painfully high yet gentle enough not to damage. From his lower position he just stares up at you, a flush covering his cheeks as your hard cock rubs against the side of his ass; that mask of defiance slipping long enough that you smirk. He’s never been good at hiding his emotions, probably never will be. But that’s just fine for you; you want to see him like this, the knowledge that it was an accident just making the smug feeling even better.

In his moment of weakness you start to press slowly into him, savouring his hisses as you stretch him and fill him up in one go. He’s tight; too tight, and it feels like it’s pulling you inside faster. Like he hungers for you. And gladly, you oblige; giving a hard thrust forward until all you can feel is his body pressed to yours from hips to chest, sweat beading on both of your foreheads by now. Breathy pants meet your ears and your eyes open on his needy face; hair splayed over his cheek so far it touches his lips. You don’t even remember shutting your eyes, but it doesn’t matter; the defiance has completely left now. He’s bared under you in more ways than one; the idea enough of a turn on to make your own breaths ragged.

His legs hug you closer; almost hurting as he pulls you in more. Slowly, he tilts his head back and shows off his long neck, making your cock throb even inside of him. It’s always on display – he never wastes an opportunity to tease – but never before has it looked so sexy as it does now and your lips meet under his Adam’s apple before you realise you’ve even moved.

That happens a lot when you’re like this. Bodies entangled, sweaty, straining for the release you both crave. You lose yourself in him. You drown.

There’s nothing you can do.

So you welcome it.

The heat, pleasure and loss of control all just feel good when you’re on top of him, though the rest of the time they just make you mad. You hate being that weak; needing those things that everyone else does to the point where the desires take over. Yet with him it doesn’t feel bad. There’s no anger, no shame, no hate. Just pleasure, and the post-orgasm haze that makes all the tenseness leave you even as he gets up and starts snapping all over again. As always, he’s easy to ignore and you just lie there with a satisfied smirk on your face as he goes off for a shower. When the door closes, you lie on your back and pillow your head on your arms, letting sleep take you this time in preparation for whatever may happen next.

Your dreams are full of him; the heat of his body and the look on his face haunting you almost every time you close your eyes. But that’s fine. You know well enough that it isn’t just you; proven every time he looks at you and shows just how much he needs you at that moment. It’s addictive.

And though you know you’ll surrender to his lust, you stare back, flash that confident smirk and then walk away; leaving him to his own thoughts until you let your desires take over again. Let him torture himself with his cravings to breaking point for you both, then tumble him into the nearest surface and let it all out. You feel his heated gaze on you for days afterwards and it only makes you want to tease him longer, avoiding direct eye contact for as long as you can. Since you know just one look will make you lose yourself again. And again. And again.

It’s only a matter of time until it happens forever, and you want to enjoy the ride while it lasts.

No sense rushing things.


End file.
